‘That’s a no,’ Summer smiled, feeling a little deflated. She bet Molly would have captured the magical image that would be used in the campaign after seven hours of shooting. She always used to boast that when she worked with photographers like Bailey, they’d get the picture in the first dozen shots.
‘You’re doing great,’ said Dan kindly. ‘Go and get changed and when we start again we’re going to nail it, okay?’
She walked over the hot sand to the trailer that had been set up at the edge of the beach. Tessa Samuel, the stylist, was sitting on the steps sipping an iced tea and listening to her iPod. She was a leggy brunette, with the high cheekbones and broad mouth of a former model, and wearing a white bikini top and a pair of denim shorts cut high up her legs.
‘Dan wants me in something else. What do you suggest?’ asked Summer.
Tessa walked into the trailer and began flicking through the racks of swimsuits, bikinis and kaftans. ‘What does Kaiser want you to wear?’ she said sulkily.
‘Kaiser?’
‘Karin,’ smiled Tessa. ‘She told me this morning in no uncertain terms that she was creative director of the shoot and would be choosing all the outfits.’
‘What are you here for then?’
‘Dunno. Decoration,’ she smiled, playing with her gold hooped earrings. ‘I’ve been like a spare part all bloody day. Still suits me getting paid to do nothing.’
‘Well, she’s gone back to the hotel, so I think you’d better pick something out,’ replied Summer, taking a cup of water from the cooler.
‘That’s right, she’s got her boyfriend coming, hasn’t she, lucky bitch,’ sniffed Tessa. ‘Have you ever met him? Sexy as fuck. Too good for Kaiser.’
Summer laughed. ‘I’ve seen Adam. Never met him, though. Men like that scare me a little. Too good-looking. Too rich. Too much. I’m sure Karin can handle it though.’
‘A man can never be too sexy or too rich,’ said Tessa, her fingers speeding through the racks. She pulled out a tiny white bikini and handed it to Summer.
‘Try that. You’ve got the body for it.’
Summer stripped off and poured her curves into the bikini. ‘It’s a bit small,’ she said, struggling to fasten it. ‘Can you help me?’
‘Your tits are massive,’ grumbled Tessa, pulling the white strip of Lycra tight across Summer’s back.
Summer breathed in, the fabric like a straitjacket across her chest, and walked out of the trailer, feeling fat and uncomfortable.
Karin hadn’t wanted to miss a second of shoot time, but she knew she had to freshen up before Adam’s arrival. She’d almost jumped for joy when she had told Adam about the shoot in Anguilla and he had suggested coming along so they could tag a few days in St Barts at the end of it. But the fact that Summer Sinclair was also going to be there had made her feel a little nervous. The young model was looking fabulous. Too fabulous, thought Karin, considering Adam’s imminent arrival. Her eyes, an iridescent lavender in the bright Caribbean sun, exuded the right amount of both sensuality and innocence. Her incredible body – her slim hips and round, voluptuous breasts – was sexy and womanly. She was a goddess; perfect for the campaign. Karin knew that thousands of women would want to look like her. But the last thing she wanted was Adam to want her.
She picked out a sheer printed Ossie Clark kaftan, chic and sexy, showing the outline of her perfect figure underneath. She wasn’t going to try and compete with Miss Sexpot down on the beach; she had her own brand of potent sexuality.
Taking a seat by the plunge pool of her suite, she heard the door clatter open and a bellboy put Adam’s expensive-looking leather suitcase on the bed.
Adam followed behind him; he walked onto the balcony and wrapped his arms around Karin’s waist. He looked good, in cream trousers and a Hermès belt, leather flip-flops and a pale blue Lacoste shirt. He had the smooth olive skin that tanned in seconds and had already caught some sun across the bridge of his nose.
‘Fancy a dip?’ he smiled, walking over to the minibar and pouring himself a vodka miniature.
‘Tempting,’ she smiled, walking back into the room, ‘but I’ve got to be at the shoot.’
‘Of course. I can’t wait to see the master at work.’
She knew it was the truth and threw him a dazzling smile.
He opened his case and changed his T-shirt.
‘Marcus said that the model is Molly’s daughter,’ he said, climbing into the golf buggy that was to take them to the beach.
‘Small world, hey,’ replied Karin, putting her hand on his knee.
‘Apparently Molly was angling to get a lift in the jet and come over.’
‘Well I’m glad that never happened,’ said Karin tartly. ‘She’d have been sneaking off to take coke every two minutes and no doubt taking her daughter with her.’